


Serene

by pockylay



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockylay/pseuds/pockylay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has problems. Some are just better at concealing them than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

She was an introvert, he was an extrovert.

It stayed that way throughout all the years they had known each other. They weren't close, merely just classmates that sometimes exchanged a word or two if needed. He never asked her about her day, and neither did she.

Zhang Yixing was the type of boy that everyone regarded as an easygoing and sociable boy. He was nice to everyone, big or small. If someone was ever in a downcast mood, he was always the one that tried to make them smile. His presence was always hard to ignore whenever he entered a room. Constance always thought he emitted a special type of aura. She thought about it last year when it was his birthday. He had made an announcement to the class and brought out cupcakes he had iced himself the night before. The delectable pastries were decorated with sloppy baby blue frosting and rainbow sprinkles. When the boy had approached her desk with the messy sugary treat, he had fumbled with the napkin; his clumsy hands trying to separate it from the stack he was holding. She could only watch in silent amusement as he finally placed the cupcake on her desk with the napkin sitting on the bottom. Before he had the chance to shuffle over to the next student, Constance worked up her might to mumble out a soft "Happy Birthday", her eyes not quite leaving the lopsided frosting. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how Yixing had paused for a second, before giving her his infamous dimpled smile.

"Thank you."

On the way home that day, Constance couldn't stop applauding herself for piping up first. Although it was merely just two words, it felt like she had recited the entire dictionary in front of him. The encounter had only been for a collection of a couple of seconds, but it replayed like an old film in her head for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until she was underneath the sheets of her bed, that a sudden thought struck her mind, why did this matter so much to her? 

\---

That had been less than 3 years ago. Now everyone was older, and perhaps, more mature. Constance was a silent observer, she watched as girls around her started to talk about makeup, and the newest skincare routines. The boys garnered interest in things such as online gaming and videos, leaving behind their hand figurines and trading decks. It was inevitable. People changed. Trends came and went. Yet, there was one person that didn't seem to act any differently than how he was before. Yixing.

She was always observing people, and he wasn't an exception. It was no way in any sort of a creepy way. It wasn't her fault that her eyes wandered whenever there was a long tedious lesson and she suddenly became more interested in her classmates that were beside her. You could even call it a talent of hers. When someone's mood changed, she sensed it right away. Whether it be from the telltale sign of tense shoulders or a forced smile, she could tell. Being a wallflower definitely had it's benefits. Constance didn't mind being a supporting character in a classroom full of people desperate for attention. In fact, she took pride in her silent nature. There was something peaceful and tranquil that she enjoyed in a quiet setting. Yixing was quite the opposite. Every time he entered their class in the morning, everyone would get rowdy and the atmosphere would be filled with ambient noises. Just like how it was back in middle school.  
Constance didn't mind, it was just how he was and she wasn't about to be the one to stand in front of his joyous presence. 

\------

Constance worked at the local movie theatre on the weekends. She was in charge of cleaning up the discarded popcorn bags and soda cups after people left the screening rooms. She liked her job. No one ever asked her to man the cash register or ticket booth, mainly because the one time she did, the line had snaked out for a whole block because she had become so flustered and anxious. Her employer and coworkers were nice to her, but none of them ever tried to talk to her long enough to get to know her. Constance didn't mind. That was just how it always was, and by now she was used to eating lunch all by herself on break. 

On one particular Friday night, her manager had requested for her to help out in the confectionary counters. A new sci-fi movie had just been released, bringing in an overload of excited teens and avid adults. The air smelled of buttery popcorn and salty nachos, accompanied by the chatter of eager families. Constance happily accepted her position behind the counter, beside the warm popcorn machine. She wasn’t confident in talking to others, often messing up her words in typical conversations; so she hoped that no one would ask her to leave her spot. That was one of the reasons why she didn’t talk much, it was better if she just kept to herself. 

“Constance, two bags of extra buttery popcorn!” Her co-worker Stacey, called out, from her spot at the register. The petite girl easily grasped a grey metal scooper, before shovelling in kernels of warm popcorn into an accompanying paper bag. Once both bags were brimming to the top with the theatre snack, she quietly shuffled over to the counters, keeping her gaze down. Constance was just about to walk back towards her spot until a certain sound perked up her ears. 

Why did this laugh sound so familiar?

She looked up, turning face to face with a boy from school. Zhang Yixing. Except, he didn’t recognize her. They barely made eye contact as he only gazed over at her for a short millisecond before turning towards the brunette girl beside him. Constance had never seen her before, so she let her eyes curiously rest on the willowy-faced girl as both Yixing and her turned away to head towards the theatre rooms. 

“Something wrong?” 

Constance quickly glanced away from the couple and jerked her head towards her co-worker. She could already feel her face turning red in embarrassment of being caught. “No, I’m okay.” 

\----

“I’m home.” 

Constance announced as she closed her front door, simultaneously slipping off her white canvas shoes as well. She heard the familiar sounds of her father rustling the evening newspaper, as she gingerly organized her shoes in a neat corner to the side. Her home environment was always muted, even before her mother’s death. Yet, Constance was the kind of person that didn’t mind that in the slightest. In fact, it made her extremely happy to come home to a peaceful place after taking part of a bustling and loud atmosphere for most of the day. 

“Come over here, let’s talk,” her father’s voice echoed down from their living room, making Constance pause in her small steps. 

What will it be this time? 

The petite girl quietly padded down the dark brown floors of her front hallway, still clutching onto her school backpack. Once she entered the sparsely decorated living room and took a seat in the couch opposite of her father’s armchair, he rested the DAILY WINSTON newspaper on the glass coffee table. 

“How was work?” Her father asked, with his hands grasped together, resting on his thighs. 

“Same as usual, nothing new.” 

Constance watched as he nodded, his mouth set in a thin line of concentration. Her father was supposedly very attractive at one point in his life. Or at least, that’s what her mother had always told her. Apparently he was a hotshot in college and had locks of curly brown hair that seemed to drive the campus ladies wild. Constance never would’ve believed her, if it hadn’t been for the old pictures that her mom had stashed away in a box for safekeeping. She had never seen her father look like anything else rather than a morbid and serious man who had a weathered face. Anything along the lines of excitement or fun never concerned her father, he was more interested with the books in his office than anything else. Yet, although he wasn’t the perfect father for a day at the amusement park, he was still a good father to Constance in his own little way.

“Did anything happen at work today?” Constance asked back plainly, already feeling the urge to escape to the comfort of her room. 

Constance then had to sit through a 10-minute long explanation of her father’s new firm partner and how it was complete blasphemy that the 50-year-old white man didn’t wash his hands each time he left the bathroom. Constance could only nod from time to time with a less than enthusiastic face as he explained to her about the importance of personal hygiene and workplace germs. 

Once she was finally free to go, she raced up the banister and into her room. The raven-haired girl propped up her grey school bag against the wall, and flopped down onto her bed, letting out a huge content sigh after working all day. 

As she started to wrap herself up into her blanket, she let her mind wander off to who she saw only a couple of hours earlier. Who exactly was that girl that was with Yixing at the movie theatre? It really shouldn’t have concerned Constance at all, but she couldn’t help but turn curious whenever it came to anything related about that dimpled boy. What was it about him that made her interest meter perk up? She didn’t like him in any sort of way to want to get to know him more. Was it because he was so different from the other students at their school? Constance always thought he was more well-mannered and polite than any other teenage boy she had ever known before. His good-natured personality seemed to resonate with her in a strange kind of way. 

Then the girl physically shook her head, as if she was trying to shake the thoughts of him out of her head. She got up from the bed, heading to the bathroom, hoping that by tomorrow she will stop filling her head with thoughts of the smiley boy.


	2. Partners

“Constance Song!” 

 

“Present!” Squeaked the pint-sized girl, her face already turning a bright shade of red from hearing her own nasally morning tone leaving her mouth. 

 

Media Arts class. Constance’s favourite period out of her entire school day, and maybe even out of both of her semesters. She loved photography and cinematography with all of her heart. There were two stacks of hard drives in her desk drawer, filled with pictures and video clips she had taken from absolutely everywhere to prove it. 

 

She had always loved the tone of nostalgia that every photo or video brought, even if it did make her heart ache a little. Her parents encouraged her creative passion by surprising her with a new camera model every year for her birthday. Constance had treasured every single one of them, making sure that all of them, at least, had the chance to explore ten different destinations with her. Constance had taken the bus/train to many places before, most of the time with just a small knapsack filled with her wallet and camera. Those were the moments that she valued the most, the ones that made her feel infinite and blissful. 

 

The only thing that Constance disliked about this class (and all of her other classes), were the copious amounts of group/partner projects that the teacher always assigned. There was absolutely nothing else that Constance hated more in the world than partner projects. It was already hard enough facing her classmates every day, but having to be forced to work and actually socializing with them was a whole different case of difficult for her. Thankfully, her love of taking pictures always trumped her social nervousness around people, and they always ended up getting a spectacular mark on their project (mainly because of Constance). It would seem that the rest of the class also knew about her knack for taking pretty pictures, because every time partners were called, people would fight over the spot of being her partner; leaving Constance flustered and unsure of what to do. Constance was an easy push-over and would always hurriedly agree to the first person that asked her, not wanting to disappoint anyone or cause any small trifles. So, it was always a constant battle of who would be the lucky person to yell out her name first. 

 

Constance patiently glanced around her unusually sunny-lit classroom, tapping her fingers against the hard wooden desk subconsciously, before deciding to bring out her sketchbook from her backpack. The corners of her mouth couldn’t help but tug up at the sight of the tattered chestnut-coloured book. Every single blemish on the sketchbook held a memory. The left corner of the stained brown pages reminded her of the night that she had spilled coffee from trying to stay up all night perfecting a sketch. The back slightly crumpled pages of the book reminded her of when someone had accidentally knocked the poor book out of her hands, straight into a rain puddle. Thankfully, she had quick reflexes and was able to snatch up the small sketchbook before the rain could seep through every single one of the pages. She had stayed up all night blow drying each page individually, then stacking three dictionaries on top of it. 

 

As everyone dawdled around the classroom, conversing with their friends here and there; Constance was already trapped inside of her own thought bubble. What should my newest storyboard feature next? Will these shots go well with the collection that I have already taken? 

 

Then a sudden commotion by the door snapped her out of her quiet pondering. The same commotion that always appeared at exactly eight a.m every morning. The arrival of a boy with tousled raven black hair and a wrinkled pale blue t-shirt. Zhang Yixing. Constance never really understood why people greeted him as vigorously as they did. He was just another teenage boy, who was really nice, but that was about it. She always watched from the spot at her desk, as boys welcomingly slapped his back and girls cheerfully greeted him. What was so special about him, that caused them to always cause such a riot every time he appeared? 

 

Constance squinted her eyes, still trying to decipher what was so special about this boy until he caught her eye, causing her to turn away almost immediately. That was real smooth of you, Constance, real smooth. She bit her lip in silent embarrassment, already feeling her face turning warm at the unpleasant eye contact. 

 

Thankfully, she didn’t have much time to muse over the awkward encounter as the teacher silenced the class for today’s lesson. 

 

“I’m assuming that all of you have handed in last week’s assignment, I hope.” Mrs.Barkley announced while adjusting her colourful wrapped skirt around her slim waist. Constance adored Mrs.Barkley with all of her heart. She was so different from all of her other teachers, and she was the only teacher that never made her feel uneasy, and instead made her feel accepted and singular. 

 

Murmurs arose at the mention of last week’s assignment, Constance could tell that some people forgot to hand in their pages as their eyes grew wide and they started to hastily whisper to the person beside them to ask if they had handed theirs in. 

 

“Well, if you didn’t hand in last week’s assignment, that is quite unfortunate as we will be starting a new partner project for the next two weeks!” 

 

Constance felt her nerves tense up at the word ‘partner’, she already knew that she was going to dread the upcoming weeks. 

 

Now was the moment where Constance had to try her to best to avoid eye contact with every possible person in the room. She glued her eyes to the whiteboard as her entire body turned solid. 

 

Mrs.Barkley sauntered around the classroom, stopping at a student’s desk before continuing. “Lucky for you guys, I will be picking the partners this time. Since a majority of you don’t seem to be working to the best of your abilities when you pair up with your friends.” 

 

Groans and cries of protest erupted from the class, but Mrs.Barkley just held up a finger to silence the class. “Although this is a partner project, this is mostly considered to be an individual assignment. You will just be partnered up with another person to bounce ideas off of one another, and primarily help each other.”

 

Constance nearly let out an audible sigh of relief, already feeling herself relaxing and falling back into her chair. 

 

She let herself tune out as the teacher began explaining the basis of the project, letting her eyes wander like they usually do. Her eyes landed on the intricate portraits that the visual arts kids left in the room for art night, then they drifted off towards some girl’s lopsided pigtails, and then they finally landed on the boy who was sitting directly in front of her. 

 

Constance felt her eyes, for some odd reason, glued to the back of Yixing’s blue shirt. They travelled all the way up to his stark black hair and noticed how it was extremely tangled like he didn’t even put in any effort to get ready in the morning. Now that she really thought about it, his hair always looked like a bird’s nest. 

 

I wonder what he would look like if he actually combed his hair for-- “Constance and Yixing!” 

 

Constance snapped her eyes towards the teacher once she heard her name being called. What did she call me and Yixing for?

 

Constance’s questions were answered almost instantly as the boy with the nest hair scraped his chair back, turned around with a beaming grin with his left arm propped against the back of the plastic chair, and spoke out: 

 

“Hi, partner!”


	3. Memories

Constance could only stare back at the boy with wide eyes, her mouth agape. Yixing continued to face the girl with an optimistic grin, dragging his chair even closer towards her desk. The young girl felt her face turn pink under his bright gaze. 

 

“You’re Constance, right?” He asked, while also thoughtfully cocking his head to the side. 

 

Constance chewed on the bottom inside of her lip, trying desperately to push herself to say something that wasn’t going to end up embarrassing. She could feel his coffee-coloured eyes lingering on her face; waiting for a response. 

 

“Yup, who else would I be?” She managed to choke out with a completely frail laugh in the middle; straight after the words left her mouth she regretted them almost instantly. Why couldn’t I just have said ‘yup’? 

 

She didn’t have to have a mirror in front of her, to know that she was absolutely crimson in the face. It was so easy for people to know whenever she was flustered. Constance hated the fact that she was so easy to read, like an open book with large elementary words on the pages. 

 

Thankfully, Yixing didn’t seem to mind or notice her terrible attempt at a joke, because he laughed wholeheartedly as if it was the funniest thing he had heard all day. Constance felt her erratic heartbeat quiet down a little, after hearing the breezy sound of his laughter. 

 

“Funny, we’ve been in so many classes together in the past, and it isn’t until after all these year that we finally get partnered up!” 

 

Constance could only nod as the seemingly ecstatic boy moved EVEN closer; resting his arm on her desk. She slid her sketchbook closer towards herself, afraid of his elbow bumping into it. 

 

“And that’s it for partners! Please don’t come up and ask to be switched, these are the final choices!” Mrs.Barkley announced while extending her arm behind her to grab a stack of papers. 

 

Constance scanned the class and noticed how the pairings were made up of the opposite genders. Marybeth who had a thing for overlining her lips was paired up with Minseok who was the human equivalent of a hamster.Then there was Sona who was with Sehun, who by far had the most unapproachable face that Constance ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

 

“Before you begin discussing with your new partner, be sure to pick up your assignment package for guidelines and the rubric!” 

 

Constance started to get up, with her fingers pressed against the desk, but Yixing promptly shot out a hand. She glanced up at the boy, confused with his sudden action. 

 

“I’ll get it, sit here!” 

 

“Uh..okay,” she replied back, barely above a whisper.

 

He shot her a quick smile before racing up to get the paper package, his black slip on shoes making a quick pattering sound against the linoleum flooring. 

 

Constance sat back down at a leisurely pace, her eyes glued to Yixing’s moving figure. How is he always so eager to do everything? Wasn’t it tiring to smile all the time? 

 

Okay, maybe Constance did understand just a little bit of why people took him in with such high regards. To say that Yixing was merely just a nice and happy boy was an understatement. Every single day, for as long as Constance remembered, Yixing had never once showed up to class in a foul mood. There was a particular memory that stood out to her the most, and it was back in fourth grade when everyone had a weird obsession with this one animated TV show (Constance didn’t watch much TV back then, so the title itself was easily forgotten with age). She recalled how she was furiously trying to colour in a picture of a tabby cat, having forgotten to do the assignment the night before, she was racing against the clock to finish. Just when she was about to make the final touches on her artwork, her teacher had approached her desk with a heavy sigh. “You were supposed to hand this into me this morning, Constance, like everyone else.”  
9-year-old Constance with her hair tied back in a scrunchie and large glasses felt her eyes watering; she hated disappointing her teachers. Even back then, she closely related disappointment with the fact that people thought she wasn’t good enough. She never wanted people to think she was insignificant, or stupid. 

 

However, before Constance had the chance to look up and face her, the classroom phone rang; prompting the teacher to walk away from her for a brief minute. Little Constance speedily wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her raspberry-coloured shirt, while also glancing around in hopes that no one saw her pitiful state. During the time that the teacher was answering the phone call, Constance decided to use the distraction to her advantage, grabbing a black pencil crayon in an attempt to finish. Before the sharp end of the coloured pencil could even reach the paper, she heard her teacher call out Yixing’s name in front of the class. Now, you have to remember, Constance was always an expert in reading emotions, even with her large chunky glasses and blue overalls. While the rest of the class ignored the teacher’s call for Yixing, Constance’s ears perked up. Something was off. She could tell that this wasn’t just a regular call down to the office to pick up supplies. No, it was far from that. It was from the telltale sign of the slight quivering from her teacher’s voice when she had called out his name, that caught the little girl’s attention. But why was her voice shaking?

 

She could only watch in silence as Yixing walked towards their teacher with a big smile, his shirt stained with the pasta that he had for lunch only hours ago. She watched as the teacher kneeled down to face him, with her left palm covering her mouth and her eyes glistening. What happened over the phone? Constance stayed unmoved, watching the scene unfold in front of her while the rest of her classmates continued to ramble around them. 

 

It wasn’t until a couple days later when Yixing was absent for a whole week that rumours started circulating. Some kid had overheard from her mother’s talk at brunch, that Yixing’s father had passed away. Unfortunately, that same child didn’t get the chance to know how exactly he did die, leaving it a mystery to all outsiders till this day. Constance remembered feeling very indifferent during that week. How was that fair? A boy who had always radiated merriment and laughed all the time, could be struck with such an unfortunate situation like this one? 

 

Yet, when Yixing came back, he didn’t show a single sign that he went through mourning. In fact, he came to class with more enthusiasm and cheerfulness that Constance had ever seen from him before. His bright attitude on the first day back made it seem like he just came back from the Bahamas, not his dad’s funeral. Constance waited for him to crack and maybe slip a couple of tears throughout the day, but he didn’t. It was just like any other school day for him. 

 

Ever since that day, Constance marked him down as a rather unusual case. He was unreadable and unpredictable, and that made her feel uneasy. 

 

“Constance?” 

 

“Huh?” Constance snapped out of her dazed state, gazing up. 

 

“Here’s your assignment package!” 

 

Yixing held out the stapled sheets towards her, with his signature smile to accompany it. 

 

“Thanks..” She accepted it gingerly, her dark brown eyes encountered his for a second; but she quickly glanced away. She thought she would have no troubles in meeting his soft ones since they were anything but judgemental, yet there was a part of her that made her feel self-conscious under his seemingly friendly stare. It wasn’t just him, it was the same for everyone else she ever encountered. Constance always thought people were judging her the second they laid their eyes upon her, she couldn’t help thinking that way. It always plagued her mind whenever she met someone new, no matter who it was. What do they think of me? They probably think I look disgusting. I don’t blame them. 

 

The boy offered her a slight smile that brought faint crinkles to his eyes, “No problem!”.   
Once he had turned around and sat back down in his seat in front of her, Constance felt more at ease. This is a partner project, but Mrs.Barkley said it’s just for bouncing ideas off of each other. We probably won’t be talking much, that’s good. 

 

With that comforting thought in her mind, Constance felt her nerves loosen up. Her eyes began to skim the assignment paper but was interrupted once another set of paper was shoved in front of her. 

 

“It says here that we have to write down ten interesting facts about each other before we start the assignment!” Yixing stated, his fingers jabbing at the indicated sentences. “We better get started, hold up, let me take out my notebook first.” 

 

Constance could only stare in complete muteness. All traces of the contentment she felt seconds ago, gone, as she watched him rummage around in his backpack to pull out a tattered blue notebook. From what she could tell, he didn’t seem too organized with the loose bits of papers and forms flying around in his backpack. 

 

Rummaging around some more, he was able to find a dull pencil hiding in the front compartment of his backpack. Throughout the whole ordeal, Constance observed with wide eyes. He’s so..messy. 

 

“Alrighty..” Yixing finally managed to breathe out, with a short leaded pencil in his right hand. He then flipped to a clean lined-sheet in his notebook, writing down the assignment title in a neat and orderly font. Constance noticed how there were little notes and random scribbles that were present in the book, as he was flipping through the pages. I wonder what those were about. 

 

While Constance was busy trying to figure out what was jotted down so rapidly, Yixing had already diverted his attention towards the girl sitting in front of him, pencil at the ready. 

 

“So, tell me something interesting about yourself.”


	4. Interesting Facts

You see, there're lots of interesting things about me. Sometimes I like to take the bus to the furthest park that I can find and just stay there for hours; sketching the flowers and taking walks back and forth along the same path so I can snap the most appealing pictures. One time I stayed out so late that my dad threatened to take away my stash of polaroids that I keep in a box on my upper shelf. I also like to draw! I have three sketchbooks filled with pencil sketches all the way from when I was just in the third grade! Realism is my favourite, I love drawing animals and the human anatomy the most. There’s just something about drawing people that I absolutely adore. 

 

“I like cats.” 

 

Yixing looked at her with a set of cloudy eyes, smiling. “Me too, I like cats as well.” Constance watched as he scribbled down ‘she likes cats’ onto his page. She hoped that he couldn’t tell how red her ears were getting. She did like cats, but it definitely wasn’t an interesting fact. He probably thought she was the dullest soul alive. 

 

“What’s something interesting about you?” Constance murmured out, her fingers tightly strung around her mechanical pencil. Small baby steps.

 

“Pardon?” Yixing looked up from writing his sentences to giving her an attentive stare that almost made Constance want to shrink back into her plastic school chair.

 

“Uh, I said..” She cleared her throat, the grip on her pencil getting a tad bit sweaty. “Is there anything interesting about you?” 

 

Constance saw the edge of his eyes twinkle with delight. “I like to write in journals, you would be amazed at how many I have!” It was obvious how excited the mention of journals made him. The thumping of his pencil against the desk got twice as fast as he shuffled his chair an inch closer. 

 

Hearing about his special collection of journals made Constance do a double-take at the boy in front of her. “You mean, like..diaries?” She hoped that her face wasn’t as red anymore as she realized just how intently the boy was staring at her. She was completely overwhelmed at his attention towards her. Yet, she didn’t exactly dislike it either.

 

“Sure, if you want to call it that. Except that, I don’t start every entry with ‘dear diary’.” Yixing laughed. Constance felt herself let out a small chuckle along with his laugh, and her face flamed up once again. 

 

‘He writes in journals.’ She wrote out on her own paper, suppressing a small grin to herself. She had never met a boy before that wrote in journals. Granted, she hasn’t really met a lot of people in general, or at least long enough to know something fascinating about them. 

 

“So what kinds of cats do you like?” 

 

“Huh?” 

 

Yixing offered a slight humorous grin. “You said you liked cats, right? Which breed do you like the most? You must have a favourite.” 

 

“Oh right, I did say that..uh..” Constance trailed off, racking her brain to remember at least one cat breed. What was that cat that I saw hanging on top of that lady’s white picket fence this morning? What did it look like again? 

 

Constance began to sweat, realizing that she may be caught in her own web of lies. “My favourite would have to be..” She bit her bottom lip, trying to avoid eye contact with the boy in front of her. “That cat that looks like a jaguar..that has those spots..” 

 

She squinted, trying with every ounce of her knowledge to remember a name for that tanned kitty she saw this morning on the walk to school.

 

“Hold on, the name will come to me, just give me a second.” Except, it really wasn't. The longer she sat there trying to focus in on a name, the further away she got from concentrating. The never unwavering eyes of the boy made her nervous and almost panicky. He knows I’m lying, and it’s not even a good lie to begin with!

 

“Are you talking about the Bengal Cat?” Yixing suddenly piped up, with a smile as nice as ever. Constance could only respond back with a relieved and embarrassed upturn of her lips. “Yeah! I don’t know why I couldn’t remember the name today..” 

 

He continued to talk as he wrote out ‘Bengal Cat’ underneath the sentence he had put down earlier on his page, “Do you have any cats at home? Pets?” 

 

“Not really, I mean I’m allergic to cat and dog fur so that’s probably why..” Unlike most people, Constance never asked her parents for a pet. She always knew that she wouldn’t be able to take care of it if a living creature was put under her supervision. Even if it was something as simple as a lone goldfish. She probably would end up forgetting to feed it after the third day. 

 

“Do you have any pets?” She asked. 

 

“Nope, even if I did want one I wouldn’t have the time to take care of it.” Constance’s eyes glanced over at his hand, which was now absent-mindedly shading in the tips of his page with the pencil. “Things at home are just..tough.” Constance thought she heard a hint of grief in his voice, but she must have mistaken it because when he looked up from his page he was grinning much wider than before (if that was possible). “But I’ve always wanted a pet dog, maybe like a beagle!” 

 

Constance felt nearly inclined to smile back at him; his smile was quite infectious. 

 

For the rest of the period, Yixing continued to bombard her with questions. Where were you born? What’s your favourite colour? Summer or Winter? Books or Movies? Favourite restaurant? Favourite book? 

 

Constance didn’t feel as burdened as she usually felt when she was put under the spotlight. Maybe it was because of how friendly Yixing seemed, so she didn’t feel the least bit worried. He wasn’t the kind of friendly that seemed to have ulterior motives, he was genuinely pleasant from the inside and out. If it had been someone else, her skin would’ve been crawling with the amount of talking she had to do. 

 

Yixing kind of reminded her of an old lady. Like one of those old ladies that you see hanging on their front porch in the early morning, silently stroking their fat orange cat. Constance liked old ladies, because let’s be honest, who doesn’t like old ladies? That’s exactly what Yixing reminded her of; a nice old lady. One that could do no wrong in the world and only had smiles to offer to every passerby.

 

Yixing was in the midst of asking her about her favourite drink when the bell rang, signaling that first period was over. Constance couldn’t help but feel disappointed, which was extremely peculiar since she normally loved when there was an excuse to stop a conversation. She couldn’t help but pout a little in dismay, then quickly biting her lip once Yixing looked up from his sheet. 

 

“I think I have more than enough interesting facts about you, thanks for answering all of them!” Yixing offered a gracious smile and darted his eyes in-between his sheet and hers. 

 

Constance looked down at her own answers. All she wrote down was the ‘He writes in journals.’ sentence and nothing else. Yixing’s page was a sharp contrast to her almost empty sheet. She mentally scolded herself for not piping up and asking a couple questions of her own. There were supposed to be at least ten interesting facts written down, but she had only managed to get one. 

 

Yixing must’ve noticed this too because he swiftly slid her page across the desk towards him, and scrawled down something with his nubby pencil. 

 

“I’m normally very talkative, I’m sorry I didn’t let you ask any questions of your own!” Yixing sheepishly apologized, sliding the paper back towards her. “I wrote down my home phone number, you can call me later on tonight to ask me more questions.” 

 

Constance felt her face heating up for what felt like the hundredth time. Hopefully, Yixing didn’t think she had some sort of condition, she just gets flustered very easily. 

 

She couldn’t even remember the last time she actually had a proper phone call with someone from school. Face to face conversations were hard, but phone calls were much harder. At least, that’s just how it was for her. Now she was really regretting not asking him questions throughout the period. 

 

“What time should I call you?” Constance asked, grabbing her backpack up from beneath the desk.

 

Yixing gathered up all of his papers, then forcefully shoved them into his navy blue backpack before answering. “Is 10 alright with you? Sorry if it’s a bit late for you. I normally have a lot of things to get through when I get home so that’s when I finally have time.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Yixing smiled, already getting ready to leave for next period with a final push of his chair. “Alright, see ya!” He began to walk out of the class with his backpack slung over his right shoulder before he turned back around to give her a final wave. 

 

Suddenly, Constance didn’t want the night to come around. She was absolutely dreading to make the call.


End file.
